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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25505890">Raspberries</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendersblue/pseuds/lavendersblue'>lavendersblue</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Political RPF - US 21st c.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Kid Fic, M/M, More Fluff, dudes being dads, otp: wait that’s my word, what else would you expect from me honestly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:02:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,466</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25505890</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendersblue/pseuds/lavendersblue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Weekends are for playtime. And raspberries.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chasten Buttigieg/Pete Buttigieg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Raspberries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this in 90 minutes. It was originally just supposed to be an idea and turned into a full-fledged... well, this. Someone stop me. I have so many fic ideas. Sorry to put you through more fluff.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They had finished breakfast three hours ago. Pete had taken Olivia into her nursery to change her diaper and Chasten was back under the blankets of their bed, smiling at both Patrick and Stevie teasing David about his store’s products on the T.V. and at the cooing sounds emitting from his husband one room over. Truman was at the foot of the bed and Buddy was in the nursery with Pete and Olivia, ever the follower. He loved lazy weekends.</span>
</p><p class="p1">Suddenly, he heard a whirring noise coming down the hall and looked at the threshold to their bedroom just in time to see P zooming their daughter into the bedroom like she was an airplane with one hand under her tummy and the other under her chubby legs. Olivia obviously thought it was the funniest thing in the world and flew in with the biggest grin on her face. Buddy came trotting in after them and joined Chasten on the bed, intrigued to watch where the unpredictable tiny human would land. Pete put a knee on the bed and placed her in Chasten’s lap with an “And she sticks the landing,” watching as Chasten chuckled and tickled her stomach. Still holding Olivia’s attention, Pete slowly lifted his other leg onto the bed, crawling towards her like a prowling animal, the two of them locking eyes on each other. She started squirming in Chasten’s lap watching Pete get closer until he lifted up her tiny shirt and leaned in to blow raspberries on her tummy, making her shriek in delight. The dogs tried to nudge their way in to lick or sniff a toe, finger, anything. Chasten chuckled at his silly husband and pulled out his phone to record a video of the scene, Pete oblivious to anything except making the baby underneath him laugh.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Olivia still in his lap, Pete tucked his knees underneath himself as he covered his eyes with his hands before pulling them away with a “Peekaboo!” the sound coming out of her mouth somewhere between a laugh and a gurgle that babies make when they’re amused. Her chubby fingers grabbed his hands as they covered his eyes again for the fourth time, attempting to pull them off when Pete cried another “Peekaboo!” making her laugh all over again. He turned his head to look briefly at Chasten (and, subsequently, the phone camera) with an ear-to-ear grin on his face, stretching impossibly wider, his eyes squinted in the way they do when he’s truly happy. Olivia had gripped Pete’s index fingers and was trying to wave them around.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chasten’s smile matched that of his husband’s at seeing him so thoroughly enjoy being silly with their daughter. Chasten had always known that Pete would make an amazing father, but dreaming about it and actually seeing it play out in front of him was something else all together. He was never worried, but more curious than anything as to how Pete would interact with their child when it came to playtime. He had always been playful with Chasten in their own way when they were at home together, and Chasten had seen him with other kids before, but he honestly wasn’t sure how Pete would react when it came to their own daughter in the privacy of their home. He didn’t have to be curious for long, however, because within the first month, after Chasten finally convinced him that handling her would not break her, he quickly found his rhythm as a dad and was now often found rolling around with her on the carpet or tossing her socks across the room to watch her toes curl when he tickled her feet. Over the past ten months, Chasten had watched the man he loved become the doting father he always knew he would be, and he was hopelessly in love with him and their little family, falling a bit more each day.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pete lifted Olivia from Chasten’s lap and sat back against the headboard, letting her stand on his thighs, a finger in each of her tiny hands to stabilize herself. Chasten stopped recording and put his phone down on the nightstand, giving a Buddy a scratch to make up for the lack of attention he was receiving. She looked between her two dads with that curious stare that babies always give to everyone and everything.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is your Papa being silly?” Chasten asked her through a smile that hasn’t left his face since Pete came zooming in with her in his arms, though it’s more of a general statement than a question since she’s not old enough to understand him yet. Olivia kept her inquisitive expression the same, but looked back at Pete as if she understood who Chasten was talking about. She tilted her head as if in serious concentration, making them both crack up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By the time she was about four or five months old, she had developed quite the personality. Quickly after she started to crawl, she had become a bit of a handful, but a marvelous, silly, wonderful handful. Curious as most babies are, she could always be found wanting to open every cabinet within her reach or grab any utensil left laying on the counter as Chasten held her while cooking dinner. They knew they were in trouble once they watched her learn by herself how to crawl off the couch (backwards and swinging one short, stout leg at a time, holding onto the cushion until her feet touched the ground) only to want to seat herself on the platform underneath the coffee table and pull the books out. Pete learned later than he should have that he could no longer keep books on the lower levels of anything.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“When was the last time she ate?” Chasten asked. “This morning at breakfast?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mhmm,” Pete hummed. “I gave her a bottle when you were cleaning up.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She should have another one before she goes down for her nap. Be right back.” Chasten patted his shoulder and brushed a finger over her cheek before he got up and headed downstairs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">On his way back up, he nearly tripped over a toy, whether it was a baby toy or a dog toy he couldn’t tell. Despite their best efforts, they had become interchangeable in the past ten months. He walked a few feet back into the bedroom, fresh bottle in hand, when he looked at the scene before him and realized that the bottle wasn’t necessary anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">In the two minutes he had been gone, Olivia was no longer standing on Pete’s lap, but had instead plopped herself down and was snoozing away on Pete’s chest, content as could be. The dogs had settled over Pete’s legs, happy to snuggle as well. Pete and Chasten locked eyes and gave each other a knowing smile, both rolling their eyes and shaking their heads in adoring exasperation. Of course she would fall soundly asleep two minutes after laughing so loudly it made the dogs’ ears twitch. That girl could fall asleep anywhere. </span> <em><span class="s2">Like father, like daughter</span></em><span class="s1">, Chasten thought. He put the now-pointless bottle on their dresser next to the television before quietly crawling back into bed.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I guess nap time started a little early then.” Pete nodded in response, not taking his eyes off the little girl in his lap. His hand was at her hip supporting her against him should she accidentally tilt in her sleep and his other was caressing her back. One of her hands was unconsciously gripping onto his t-shirt as if daring him to move, cementing her spot on his chest. Chasten took a few pictures, sure to meltdown Twitter later and settled in next to them, running a gentle hand over Olivia’s head. Her face was smushed against her dad’s chest and she looked hilariously adorable. Pete had rested his head back against the headboard and was just looking at Chasten, a blissed-out smile still on his face. The Look made Chasten’s chest ache.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you,” he whispered, not needing to elaborate why. Pete’s soft smile widened, as it so often did, at the sentiment. He jutted his chin out a little and puckered his lips. Chasten breathed a laugh and leaned in to kiss him, short and sweet. He pulled back an inch and leaned in for one more before resting his head on Pete’s shoulder,lowering the volume on the T.V. He felt Pete rest his head over his own, breathing a content sigh.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m so happy,” he heard Pete breathe out. It made his heart stutter. So was he. He pressed a kiss to his husband’s shoulder before resettling. The sun shone through the balcony windows and warmed their skin as they watched David yell at Alexis on the television.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So was he.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I always liked the name Olivia. Thanks for reading. x</p><p>(Also extra points to whoever knows the tv show)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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